The Alchemist and Remnant
by 5-Yen Vagabond
Summary: After a failed Transmutation, Chris Hale is brought face to face with Truth, as he's suspected of attempting Human Transmutation. Sent to Remnant as a 'worthy' sacrifice, he escapes to Beacon Academy where he must work to fix a rift that threatens to destroy both worlds, all the while understanding and getting the heck out of this new and veritable world. Simple, right?
1. Chapter 1 - Accidental Alchemy

**This is mainly a sort of test. I just want to see where this goes, and how people receive it here. Hope you enjoy it!** **I also apologize for how short it is.**

* * *

Snow dotted the windowpane, bearing down upon the earth in icy sheets. Inside this warm and humble abode, a boy worked, sweat beading his forehead, and mouth strained with concentration.

Books littered the floor, open to pages about alchemy. On the table in front of him, was a dented bronze jar and beside it, a silver tray. With hope – and enough confidence – he was going to turn fix this jar, and gain some _cenz_ for his services.

His hands glowed blue with power, and electric-like tendrils shot out of his hands, encircling the jar. A pair of hands were placed against the jar, a deep thrumming reverberating within the boy.

 _I can feel it… the density of this jar… its chemical makeup…_

 _Now to use the energy of the tray._

He grasped the tray as well, encircling it in blue. The two objects spoke to him, practically begging him to morph them and adjust their physical appearance.

With a puff of air, he added his energy to the mix. _Let's go. I'm ready for this._

For a while, it seemed as if the whole process was going hunky-dory… for a while, that was.

 _W-what? What's… going on?_

The two objects were sucking up more energy than he initially thought; he could feel his hands growing limp. His eyelids sagged, fluttering of their own accord.

 _No, no! Stop! Don't give in!_

His legs were the first to give out, the table crashing, and the line of energy cut off. It seemed as if that was that, that a boy would be found unconscious – barely breathing – amidst a scattering of books in his room.

But no. Both of the objects vibrated violently, radiating a pure white light. The floor vibrated with energy, and a couple of doors down, a young couple was shaken awake abruptly.

The whole room was filled with this white light, covering the boy in it. In a sudden flash, the boy was gone, leaving behind a black scar on the floorboards. Ashes rained down across his room. On his bed, lay a glinting necklace, embedded with lapis lazulis.

* * *

Chris felt his sense return to him in an instant, enough time for him to understand what was happening to him. Enough for him to discern the series of events that led him to his moment. In short terms…

 _What the hell just happened?_

One minute, he stood in the middle of his room. And the next… he was… in limbo? Yeah, that was correct, limbo. An infinite nothingness that stretched as far as the naked eye could see.

 _What is this? Where am I?_

He could feel an onrush of images plague his brain, an indication that his brain was starting to work on remembering. Chris mulled through the images that he saw – or had seen, and done already since they were a memory? – stopping to the moment when… there was just light.

 _That… that's it. All I remember is sudden flash of light… and then…_

He took a step back in this white wasteland. _Is this… Rebound?_ Another step back.

 _Or something else?_

Behind him stood a – no, floated. Upon closer inspection, he noticed a gate that _floated_ above the floor of this white oblivion. He inspected this door closer, finding a tree engraved onto the gate itself. He blinked twice. The door was still there. Thrice.

It was still there.

"Where the hell am I?" He murmured, jumping at the sudden response, "Hell is correct indeed." Chris hadn't expected a response in this stark post-apocalyptic reality, especially one that sounded so high-pitched. "Am I not correct, Chris Hale?"

Chris turned behind to look, terror fueling his veins. What sat before him was a… miniature mannequin. Or, roughly about the same height and size as him.

"Am I correct, Chris Hale?" repeated the voice, and out of the sheer nothingness, formed… a being. Darkness radiated from this person; looking closer, he saw that the darkness formed the outline of the creature – being, whatever it was.

"W-who are you?" He asked, surprised to find that he could speak. He was scared out of his wits right now, at this person, at the mysterious stone door behind him, at this seemingly everlasting limbo. Chris just wanted to go back home and let Agnes, his little sister, steal his vegetables again. He'd strip naked if he could.

The midget snorted, raising his hands with a flourish, "I am what you would call the world." There was tone of finality with the way the _being_ said it, almost as if he were about to exact something horrible on him, "Or perhaps the universe, or perhaps God, or perhaps truth, or perhaps all, or perhaps one. I am also," the being pointed a finger to Chris, " _you_. I am Truth."

"T-Truth?" He stuttered out, flummoxed. Out of the number of alchemy books he had read, he had not _once_ come across a being named Truth. Even a being that was supposedly everything and nothing at the same time.

Chris could feel a trickle of questions collect in his headand with sudden realization, he felt that the being knew them too. The being, Truth, did say he was him… however odd that sounded.

Truth held up a finger, "The first question in your mind shall be answered: 'What is this door behind me?'" Chris tried to not look surprised, or impressed.

"To put it simply, it is _your_ Gate of Truth. The door to all of alchemy, and to God's domain which no human is supposed to tread."

Truth held up another finger, "Your second question, 'What is this place?'" Truth held up a hand, gesturing to the endless void around him, "This is my domain, and purely my own. This is where I exact my punishments on those foolish enough to perform Human Transmutation."

"Punishments? Human Transmutation?" His heart was racing faster than a torpedo, what did he do to get here? He hadn't even performed any-

"And, your final question," Truth held up his third finger, "'What did I do to be here?' Here's my answer to that. Nothing." Truth put down his hand, "You did absolutely nothing to be here, and yet you are here." Truth stood up, "Now I _wonder_ why is that?"

"I don't know." He told the truth – heh, nice pun – and scrambled desperately within himself for what he – it – wanted. Then it dawned on him. He had nothing to give. He didn't do anything wrong.

"What was inside the bronze jar?"

A weight was lifted off his shoulders almost immediately. "The bronze jar had nothing in it. I thought you knew, since you are me?"

"Funny joke. What _was_ inside the bronze jar?" Truth repeated once more, leaving Chris at a loss.

"Nothing." He repeated adamantly. "There was nothing in the bronze jar."

"Don't lie to me. There were ashes inside that bronze jar. Ashes of a dead woman. Your mother."

This stopped him, and it took him a moment to realize what Truth said, and even if it did repeat itself, he still wouldn't have understood, "What?" He asked, struggling to continue, "I don't know… how she got there. She… I… since that _day_ , I have not set a foot near her grave! I'm fairly sure that the funeral organizers never cremated her!" But to be honest, he wasn't sure at all.

"No matter the reason, you still attempted Human Transmutation. But you did not sacrifice anything-."

"Of course I didn't!" What was going on here, what was happening right now? Was this even real?

"Pipe down. I will judge your sacrifice instead. Something that you love… something that you care about…" Truth mulled it over for a moment, tapping a finger to a chin, before he had an idea, and a perfect one it was, "I will take away your family from you. It is only fitting."

Chris's eyes snapped open from their dreamer's trance, and he barely registered anything before pouncing on the silhouette of a being. Taking away his family was extreme, that… that was going too far! Wrong move, he soon found out as the boy pointed a finger at him, and almost instantaneously; he stood stock-still, like a statue, every inch of his body shivering. "Ah, ah." He tut-tutted. "No punching, young man."

"Stop stealing and messing with my voice, you incessant creep!"

"What? I am you after all." The little bastard got closer to Chris's face. Truth snapped his fingers.

"How about it? Do you accept this?"

"No!"

"It's too late anyway."

Chris's eyes twitched, his mouth pulled back to reveal his gritted teeth. Hands grabbed at him from behind, struggling to get a handhold on him.

 _No! No!_

"Say goodbye, Chris Hale, the alchemist."

 _No! There must be a way!_

He let out croak, after pleading croak, the hands dragging him deeper and deeper into the inky darkness of the void within.

 _No! Please!_ He darted his head, frantic, _Someone, anyone! Help! HELP!_

Before, the unholy white of limbo frightened him, but now, he would give anything to escape this place of darkness, to bask in the light once more.

 _To see my family once more._

The temperature dropped, and he guessed he must've been inside. He moved, struggling inch by inch.

 _Truth! Truth!_ He stared with intense hate at this being, _I will find you, and I will kill you!_ The last image he saw before everything went a startling white… was Truth standing stock-still, its face held down. The mouth of the being moved, and Chris stopped himself; instead of feeling anger, he felt…

Stunned.

Truth swiped his hand, the door giving a great heave before shutting completely, and before he was dragged into the dark by hands that looked more ethereal than anything he had seen. His anger reached new peaks when he realized what Truth had said, those twelve words that left him gritting his teeth.

" _I'm sorry, Chris. You'll see why I had to do this."_

* * *

 _Head to Beacon…_

Chris wasn't sent free falling, or hurtling through scraps of paper and wind. Instead, he was just… there. From limbo… to here… wherever here was. Lights danced around his eyes for a bit, and his head hurt like the demon itself had cleaved an ax through it, but other than that, he seemed fine.

Darkness surrounded him that was for sure. Was he stuck in some cave? Or in death? Was death even a physical reality? Why was he asking so many questions? There was also a putrid smell that wafted through the air, like garbage under the rain. Was this how death smelt like? He held up his hands in front of his face, petrified of staying here for all eternity. His hands were practically shaking-

Wait, how could he see his hands? He was supposed to be in total darkness. He craned his head, his answer becoming evident. Ahead was a ray of light, and like an alchemist who's cracked the secret of the Philosopher's Stone, he scrambled for it. He reached out towards the light like a toddler, gritting his teeth at its intensity and at its brilliance.

Faintly, he could pick out the sounds of machinery, of a _whissh_ sound that seemed to emanate from the light.

He finally reached it, covering his eyes… before he regained focus. He found that he was in an alleyway before, which explained the darkness and the smell. He was grateful that he wasn't in death, or some other place related to hell, but curiosity held him in a grip. If not hell, then where was he?

He panned his gaze towards his surroundings, and stopped. His mouth was agape, his hands stopped shaking, his eyes were so wide you could put golf-balls in them. It wasn't his fault, it was the sight in front of him that made him this… this… taken aback…

 _I'm not in Amestris anymore._ That thought struck him across the face. _I'm not in Amestris anymore._

Around him, was the metropolitan city of Vale, sprawling buildings as far as the naked eye could reach, skyscrapers with honed tips that gleamed in the sunlight, vehicles that floated in the air, and home to many aspiring Huntsmen and Huntresses… and now, apparently, one alchemist.

 _Oh god,_ he thought, anxiety and terror bubbling within his gut like some god-awful concoction. _Where am I?_

He stumbled around, seemingly in a daze. Of course he was, how could he not? He wasn't anywhere near home, or Amestris for example. There weren't any futuristic vehicles that floated in the sky when he was there!

An unsettling thought began to take over his head, _Am I slowly going insane? Truth said he was going to take away my family. Is this the result of that? Am in a parallel universe?_

No, no, Truth wasn't all about changing things. He was a being that exacted order. He wouldn't just make a decision that would create another timeline. So then, what was it?

His head was already spilling its seams at the thought of this. Multiple universes, alternate timelines – what did those two have to do anything?

He leaned his hand against a building, steadying himself. What he didn't know, was that people around him were giving him queer looks and straying as far away from the 'suspected' drunken fellow as possible.

 _Quick! Did Truth say anything that might reveal anything?_

Not much, as he recalled. He just remembered his face, and then… nothing.

Nothing except for an endless stream of information being poured into his head. But other than that, nothing.

 _Wait, endless stream of information?_

Yes, yes… slowly, his mind began to feed him tidbits of information, information on alchemy. Before, he understood about as much about alchemy as the next guy, but now… he might become a State Alchemist. Might. If he reached home.

"Bye mom! I'm off to Beacon!" He heard someone call out, and a perky young lad stepped out into the sun, wielding a large serrated blade, not nearly the size of the boy. He might've ignored the boy, had he not said something that stopped Chris for a moment.

 _Beacon? I think… I've heard that name before… I don't know where though._

A large transport ship, all gleaming metal with rudder fins, floated down from the sky inches away from the boy. Wherever that boy was going, he was going to Beacon.

 _Head to Beacon…_

There, that voice again. He didn't notice it the first time, but now he did. Beacon was somehow important to his… to his situation.

The boy stepped into the transport ship, only a few steps away before the transport ship would leave, and the mystery of Beacon and his whereabouts forgotten.

 _Only a few seconds, Chris, tick tock, tick tock._

He chewed on the inside of his lip, a bead of sweat running down his head.

 _Do you want to listen to the voice in your head, or do you want to remain in this place?_

 _Come on Chris!_

 _Tick-_

 _The clock is ticking!_

 _-tock._

 _Tick-_

His legs started moving off their own accord, chasing after the airship as he called out, "Wait, hold on!"

 _-tock._


	2. Chapter 2 - 'Truth' is All You Need

_**Yeah... I wasn't really at my best with this one. I hope this makes any sense to the people still reading this. On a high note, we've reached over a 140 views, 7 followers and 2 favorites! That doesn't seem like much, but it's worth the planet to me! And now, enjoy!**_

* * *

"Halt, kid!" yelled out a guardsman, blocking the entrance to the airship. The man held a clipboard in his hands, his buzz cut blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight, wore a glittery vest that said everything about this world's futuristic advancements, and spoke in a thick accent, as if he were choking on a glob of his own saliva. "Wh'addaya think ya' doin?"

Chris paused for a moment, raising a brow, "You gonna spit that out?"

The guard brushed aside the comment, but not without a slight eye twitch, "Who are you kid? And speak fast. There's a couple of kids here that would love to hurry up right about now."

The boy took in a deep breath, composing himself before belting out a lie – and if there was such thing as bigger as a white lie, then this would be it, "Listen, sir, I'm in a hurry as well. You see, I missed the pickup and wandered about the city for a while looking for the airship. I'm registered late to Beacon, and I'm not sure my name's in the list yet."

 _No way is the guard falling for that! And I hardly understood half of what I said!_

It wasn't really a surprise when the guard sneered at him, barking out, "Yeah, heard that story before. Beat it, wannabe."

 _W-what?_

Chris was stunned, crestfallen even. What the hell he was supposed to do? Move out into whatever awaited him beyond here? No, he would die in under thirty seconds of peeking a foot from this place's limits, into whatever wilderness awaited him.

The guard inwardly laughed at this boy's scrambled expression, that crestfallen look of his. While he felt a tiny smidge of guilt for him – oh who was he kidding? He barely felt any guilt for him! For all he knew, this young man could be a Faunus in disguise – or worse, part of the White Fang, them sneaky bastards. One gave him a scar on his chest the size of the Schnee family's ego during one of their riots. Put him straight through to babysitting duty for these amateurs.

To be honest, he was getting a bit bored.

Futilely, Chris yelled out an order to the man, safe in the fact that this man couldn't read minds, _Let me in._

 _Let me in._

"What did you say kid?" The guard snarled, cupping his ear with his hand, "Let you in? Don't push this courtesy I'm giving you, a'ight? Don't regret it, or else I might give you something to regret about." The man raised a fist, and while the gesture was not threatening in the least, it certainly sent the message. _Say? What - I said that? I don't remember saying that at all-_

"Let me in." He repeated like a chant, or an incantation more like it, staring the man dead in the eyes. The guard smirked at the boy, staring back at the boy as a sort of 'I'll play your game' gesture. If he had looked away, he might've not had his brain scrambled from the inside out, his body a soulless husk soon after. The man's pupils dilated, his eyes turning a slight opaque, his mouth opened agape limply, as if it was held by a string.

 _Holy..! What's going on? Is this man being mind-controlled from someone?_

"A'ight boy. You can enter." The guard soon uttered in a mechanical tone, his face a blank canvas, devoid of emotion. The only thing emotional about this man was the length of drool that ran down his mouth. "This way, boy." The guard repeated, shoving Chris into the airship. Fishing out a walkie-talkie from his pants, the man barked a request into it, in the same trance-like behavior as before, "Oi, Vinny? You there? I got this kid here who says he's part of the list, but says he came late."

A crackle echoed out from the small device, his partner chiming in, "Eh, put him in. These kids are all riled up to make them wait any longer. Just keep an eye on him through the cams. Send him to Ozpin when we reach there." The guard nodded, pulling Chris into the carrier as the ship's hangar doors clicked shut behind them.

 _Escort this boy to the gallery._ The man repeated to himself in his head. _Do not doubt this command._

Chris walked with this man, side to side with him in fact, but only for the fact that he was walking in a daze. What in god's name happened there? Why did the man looked like he was in a trance? Who was Vinny? Why was Chris so paranoid and couldn't lighten up a bit? Though, he DID feel a modicum of gratitude to whatever unseen force had helped him this far, he couldn't help but also doubt it. Why was it helping HIM, of all people? Was it linked to the voice in his head that requested – ordered more like it – him to head to Beacon? Was that it?

He rubbed his pounding temples, yelling at his brain to cool it with the theories. As they both approached the 'gallery', he couldn't help but notice that the hallway was getting a lot darker… and darker… and darker… it was so dark now it reminded of the alleyway, and its pitch blackness. He brushed his hands against the wall. Chris resisted the urge to clap his hands together, and hurl a large wall of steel directly towards this man and run off on his own. This man's thousand yard stare was creeping him out. But he would need a transmutation circle to do that, and drawing one would take time. Plus, it might raise suspicion. After all, who wouldn't notice somebody drawing random geometric designs, on an airship no less?

Now that he was actually here… maybe this wasn't such a good idea…

 _Maybe I should've thought of something else. Given enough time._ He retorted spitefully to his doubt-riddled brain, _but right at this very moment, I don't. I have no plan, I followed the voice in my head, and now I'm watching where this crazy stream takes me, brain. So for once, don't fill my brain with enough doubt to drown the entire city of Xerxes!_

A moment of silence, a miracle perhaps, before it squeaked, **_I miss home._**

He sighed, _I miss home too._

It wasn't even a few minutes, nor even for a few hours, but he already felt the dull, numbing pain of being apart from his family. Of course, he intended to return home… but… what if he couldn't…

 _No, shut up. Just deal with it, and go on._

He hardly suspected he would be fighting with his own subconscious, hell, he hardly anticipated travelling to another world, but hey? Beggars can't be choosers, am I right?

 _Calm, calm… imagine what dad would do…_

He would hijack this airship, take control of the pilot, and hold everyone hostage. _Okay, don't think like dad. Think like… like mom. What would she do..?_

Students – and he said this lightly, because they hardly resembled actual people and looked more like shadows – flitted through the gallery, having animated conversations with each other. "Oh, I can't believe my baby sister is going to Beacon with me! This is the best day ever!" His eyes darted to a blonde-haired girl, nearly electrified with excitement. Oh yeah. Among them were a few students that, he realized with shock, were actual people. Nice, he thought that he would have to spend his time here with all these shadow people… Homunculi. He was going to call these people 'Homunculi' from now on.

An electronic window buzzed and hummed with electricity, displaying a mugshot of what looked to be a clean shaven man, donning a bowling hat and having an air of sophisticated crime about him, while a bunch of words ran down at the bottom of the screen.

" _The robbery was led by nefarious criminal Roman Torchwick, who continues to evade authorities. If you have any information on his whereabouts, please contact the Vale Police Department. Back to you Lisa._ " The news flashed to an image of a bunch of animal-like humans holding signs and shouting at the camera. " _Thank you, Cyril. In other news, this Saturday's Faunus Civil Rights Protest…_ "

 _Hmm, interesting… how is this thing floating?_ A couple of Homunculi talking amongst each other passed him a few strange looks, occasionally giving him a glance. He inspected the incredibly familiar-looking machine closer, and with sudden realization, understood why it looked so familiar. He had seen this thing before, in his father's study. But it was disassembled then, all springs, glass and metal casings.

 _But how did my own father learn about this? This looks way more advanced than what Amestris has to offer! And looking at the interior of this airship…_

 _It seems Amestris isn't the only technologically advanced country in the world anymore._ He reasoned without a qualm of sympathy for his own country. His house was his own country.

 _But now I have to think of something… a plan. Again… what would mom do?_

He flitted towards a large semi-circular window - one of four - like a Homunculi, intending to stray as far away from them as possible. It wasn't as if he thought less of them, no… he just wasn't in the mood to speak, or hold a conversation with anyone at the moment.

 _Mom… it's been some time since I last thought of her…_

 _She would… I don't know, convince a higher-up and inform them of her situation? I don't know!_

Chris's eyes kept picking out security cameras hidden within the exquisite gallery, and he had a fleeting suspicion that they were all trained on him. He would seem in a bad position right now, wouldn't he? His back trained to the cameras and facing the window. It would seem as if he was _intentionally_ avoiding them.

Right now, he was like a leaf drifting in the wind, in it for the ride. A plan was barely forming in his mind, and all he had to go on were a couple of words uttered by a voice in his head. He let out a sigh.

At least the view could compensate for how shitty he felt right now, and what a view it was. There were buildings with honed tips, gleaming under the arduous sunlight, with low-rise buildings that stretched for as far as his eyes could see. Inwardly, he smiled at it. _This doesn't… look bad… I could live here…_

 _No. Can't have that mindset. Need to find a way back home._

To distract himself, he focused on his appearance, studying himself like he would an alchemical compound. He visibly shuddered at the thought of Truth transmuting, or altering his appearance in anyway. At the end of it, he flashed himself a wry smile, noticing his tense shoulders and that hardened look of his – as if he were some soldier of the military.

 _I look like crap, don't I?_

A ragtag mess of black hair stared back at him, a pair of dreamer's gray eyes staring blankly into the single pane of glass, the only shirt that he had, currently, to his name was blackened. Probably from the transmutation. His dullish brown overcoat, thankfully, covered his shirt which he had to change. He couldn't just parade about with an ash-covered shirt, and expect people to treat it with any level of normalcy!

 _Wait, is it there?_

He checked around his pockets for a familiar bulge, belonging to a moon-silver locket about roughly the same size as his palm. Instead, all he found was a cold metal pad, a green half-moon symbol in the middle, whose purpose he did not know.

 _No… I… Didn't I have it with me?_

Instantly, his brain flashed to a memory of the damned thing sitting on his bed. On his bed, just centimeters away from where he was standing!

 _I'm an idiot!_ He yelled to himself, banging his head lightly against the window, before recoiling it.

He pushed that thought to the deepest crevices of his mind, concentrating on his appearance… hold on. Were his cheekbones more refined now? Was his chin always that rounded? Chris rubbed the spot, awkwardly as if his own chin were foreign to him. He hadn't bothered checking himself out in a mirror before… but he would know if his own chin had started growing!

"Did Truth age me up a few years?" He murmured to himself, running a hand through his hair worryingly. If so… then why? He was 15 in Amestris, so taking into account all this new info… he estimated himself to be around 17, give or take. "If so… why?" What purpose would it serve to increase his age?

The holographic news machines flickered once, from a report about a failed Faunus – huh? – Civil Rights protest to an image of a woman dressed in an elaborate outfit, her blonde hair curling down her neck. " _Hello, and welcome to Beacon!_ " She said, with obviously faked enthusiasm, " _My name is Glynda Goodwitch._ "

Apparently this name carried quite a weight, as once the woman had said it, the students stopped talking and diverted their attention towards her. Seems like she's an important figure in this world… or at the very least, in 'Beacon' perhaps.

" _You are among a privileged few who have received the honor of being selected to attend this prestigious academy! Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and as future Huntsmen and Huntresses, it is your duty to uphold it. You have demonstrated the courage needed for such a task, and now it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge and the training to protect our world._ "

Chris anticipated a hearty 'good luck' at the end of that speech, but the holo-gram of the woman promptly disappeared in a distorted fizz. His hands clenched into a pair of fists, and a tense expression crept up his face. Future Huntsmen and Huntresses… an incredible time of peace… provide knowledge and training…

He digested this information like oatmeal, piecing together some parts of the puzzle. But he wasn't sure if they were exactly the right pieces, it was as if he had found the exact puzzle piece that _looked_ like it fit into this other puzzle piece, but it was just some cardboard shavings someone glued together. He wasn't sure…

He could feel the Homunculi's attention shift to the windows, as Chris stepped aside to let the students pass and wonder at the sight in front of them. Chris craned his head, gazing at the building in the distance with a veritable anxiousness. The city-scape receded into the distance as they approached closer, and Chris swore he could feel the minutes ticking in his head.

 _My god… that's quite a view…_

The airship rumbled, and let out a short whine before it docked. The hangar doors in the gallery slowly lowered…

…and all hell let loose with it.

* * *

"Oi, watch it!" He yelled back to the white-blonde streak of hair that roughly shoved him aside. As if the clamoring wasn't enough, and the constant shoulder-to-shoulder nudging of the Homunculi. He had a moment of respite as the students dispersed, thinning out as they explored the grounds of Beacon Academy, home to future Huntsmen and Huntresses!

He swore it was like he was promoting the building itself. Wait till he got back to Amestris, there would be application forms going off to a non-existent school in another world.

 _Another world… huh. I can't believe I'd feel used to it by now. Another world…_

From the ship, two guards stepped out before the hangar doors closed and the airship left. One, who was already familiar to Chris, with a buzz cut stepped towards Chris and barked out an order, "All right you little rat! Come over here, we're gonna send ya to Ozpin for a while!"

 _Yeah, I forgot. I have to follow this guy._

Chris's gaze was trained on the first guard, before it slowly panned over to the guard beside the first. He raised a brow at the man's appearance: shorter than the buzz cut man, lanky, with wiry greenish-blue hair that ran down the length of his face, eyes as droopy as overworked as a person depraved of his coffee, with a mouth as thin as a pencil line. Was this a guard, or a circus performer? He shuffled over to them, standing in front of them.

"So this is the boy? He looks harmless enough." The shorter man spoke, a scratchy voice that pained Chris's ears.

 _Wait, the buzz cut man's name is Galbin?_ He darted his head to the left, his cheeks puffed up with laughter bubbling in them.

"That White Fang ass that struck me across the chest was also a kid. I don't trust any Faunus no more." Galbin spat out, spite oozing from his tone. The lanky man rubbed his chin in contemplation, "You think he could be a Faunus in disguise? Or worse, a White Fang member?

"But they've been docile these past few months. Well, your definition of docile anyway."

Galbin let out a rough snort, "Lying scum, they may be. Docile, they ain't."

"Well, whatever. Let's just bring him to Ozpin, see what he has to say about this." Lanky-man spoke, Chris shuddering at the man's hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, and possibly ask him for a raise." To which the lanky-man agreed.

"A'ight, follow us kid." Galbin shoved the boy forward, grunting as he did. With a glare towards the man, Chris walked forward, following the directions that the two men provided. As they walked, Homunculi around them stopped to stare with looks of anxiety, and curiosity; gossiping amidst themselves. Why was this boy being escorted by two guards? Was he in trouble? Did he do something wrong?

If only he had an acute sense of hearing… Chris wondered longingly. Or the ability to read minds. That too.

Stepping inside the ballroom, Chris looked behind him to find that the two guards still flanked him. _Yup, they aren't leaving._ He leaned forward in exasperation, feeling their stares boring into him like bullets.

 _But if that's how it is, I'll have to get used to it._

 _Speaking of which, the guards mentioned me meeting up with an 'Ozpin' once I arrived here. Where is he?_

Galbin glanced around the ballroom, scratching his head irritatingly as he spouted out, "Looks like Ozpin ain't here yet." He turned to his partner, "Listen, Cian. You took care of the runt here, while I find ol' Ozpin. Got it?"

Cian saluted, "Loud and clear, Galby." Galbin grunted at that nickname, bumbling down some dark hallway to find mister Ozpin. He would know what to do with this runt… and he sincerely hoped that Ozpin would let him throw out the runt. Cian kept his gaze fixed on his partner until he felt, letting out a sigh of relief once he did.

"God, I never thought he'd leave." The man muttered. From his shirt, Cian pulled out a water bottle, holding it out to Chris. "You thirsty? You could do with something to drink." It took Chris a moment to react this sudden moment of kindness, and even then, his hand paused before reaching up and accepting the water bottle.

 _Wait…_

Cracking the bottle open, he brought it to his mouth… pausing before he took a sip, "This water doesn't have some truth serum in it, does it? Or poison?"

"No!" Cian defended, distraught at the fact, "I drink that water too! I swear, there isn't anything of that sort!" Raising a brow, he sipped the water until he downed the whole thing in one gulp.

"Thanks." He returned the bottle, casting his head down. "Uh, sorry for, finishing the whole thing. I was… real thirsty." Cian shook his head, flashing a hearty grin towards the boy, "No, no. It's alright." He took another glance back down the hallway before adding, "You know, Galbin isn't such a bad guy. He's just… angry. I'm easily emphatic, so I wouldn't know."

His ears perked at the mention of 'Galbin'… or more, to the mention of him not being such a bad guy, "Really? He doesn't give off that impression."

"I'm serious. He's just pissed that he got transferred to guard duty, after the White Fang incident…"

"W-White Fang incident?" Chris stuttered, "What… what is it about?"

"Well, it's-." A low electronic whine echoed across the ballroom, the source from the stage itself. A man wielding a cane, bone-white hair, and a pair of bifocals stepped onto the stage, followed by Glynda Goodwitch, the automation herself. Even in real life, the light bounced off of her like an automaton's metallic skin. Silence fell down across the students like a thick blanket.

"That man up there is director Ozpin, though, you might've already known about him." Cian said to Chris, a look of childlike glee beaming from his features.

"I'll... keep this brief," The man himself started, "You have traveled here today in search of knowledge, to hone your craft and acquire new skills, and when you have finished, you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people." Ozpin panned his gaze around the students compiled before him, "But I look amongst you, and all I see is wasted energy, in need of purpose, direction."

"You assume knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this school will prove that knowledge can only carry you so far. It is up to you to take the first step." With a click that echoed across the hall, the man himself stepped off the stage, and soon, the students were back to whispering amongst each other.

"…yeah, he didn't sound himself…"

"…don't know. Conspiracy theory..?"

 _That was… the most uninspiring speech I've ever heard,_ Chris thought, looking to Cian's wonderstruck face once more, _and this guy's the director of this place? My dad gives better speeches than that!_

Glynda coughed once into the mic before speaking, "You will gather in the ballroom tonight; tomorrow, your initiation begins. Be ready. You are dismissed." He felt a light tap on his shoulder, followed by Rouge whispering into his ear, "Listen, kid. Why don't you head on with these people a bit? Take a rest in the ballroom? We'll see about meeting with Ozpin later in the morning."

"What about Galbin?" He still felt a bubble of laughter in his gut when he uttered the man's name, "Won't he object to this?"

"It'll be fine. I'll just convince him, I'm good at that, to be honest." He was lightly shoved forward by Cian, into the throng of Homunculi that surged out of the ballroom, "Have fun!"

Surprisingly… Chris felt a blossom of trust blooming with his gut, directed to this man. He swore, he felt nearly… hopeful, like he could something out of this distressing situation. Looking back, he grinned in Cian's direction, Cian returning the gesture and shooing him forward. He walked with these Homunculi, finding his way towards the ballroom and where they would be sleeping for the day.

 _And soon, I will find a way back home…_ Chris thought adamantly, that thought blazing in his mind like a fireworks display. It wasn't a question anymore. He had to.

* * *

He blended in easily with the vast group of the people here, finding some splotches of colored hair amongst the throng of black heads and dark as night bodies. His dull appearance helped him with that.

The large group passed by windows bringing in light from outside, and he noticed how fast the day had gone by. The sky had gone from a serene blue to the color of a burning flame. Chris walked with them, wondering once more why he was dealing with walking calmly this again. He could very well shove his way past this throng of darkness if he felt, before being pushed down by the general concession.

He sighed, closing his eyes as he did. In that instant, he bumped into someone, and jumped at the touch. "Umph!" He yipped, looking down at the person he bumped. A head of jet black, tinged with red. He opened his mouth to apologize, but heard a cute voice muttering out the word 'Sorry!" quicker than he did, before he even closed his mouth again.

He scratched his head, shrugging it off. It didn't matter anyway. They were inside the ballroom. It was sparse, which gave for nice head and leg room. Sleeping bags were laid out on the floor, in neat little rows, who would have thought? They were separated into boys and girls groups. There weren't any near the windows, he noticed, so he dragged one further from the rest, but not that near the windows. The people there didn't seem to mind, though some did look at him for a moment, from both the girls and the boy's side of the ballroom.

A girl with brown hair with bright red eyes, another with sickly-hued pink eyes coupled with purple, and a boy with glazed blue hair and eyes that reminded him of pottery. He creased his brow, frowning slightly. If one looked at him, they would see a contradicting cauldron of emotions.

Inside, he felt happy that he was ignored. Though his fact betrayed his true emotions. He felt a pain in his chest, one that he had grown used to in the past years.

 _It's fine. Everything's fine. I must be homesick._

 _It's normal to be homesick._

He fit himself snugly in the sleeping bag, and closed his eyes. He burrowed deeper…

 _…and found himself in a familiarly white expanse. A great door floated behind him, carved with a tree that was all too familiar to him. He had been here, in fact, this was where he was thrust into matters he did not completely understand._

 _"I see you're back." A sudden voice called out, Truth appearing in front of Chris. The boy stepped back in shock. Truth sat down as he had when Chris had first met the devil. The both of them were locked in a staring contest – metaphorical, Truth technically had no eyes… or even a nose, for that matter – for a short period of time, before Chris shot forward, his hands outstretched to grab the little bugger's throat._

 _"Ah, no." Truth pointed a finger at Chris, freezing the boy solid, falling to the floor cartoonishly, "Now, I need to speak with you about something_ very _important. If you're willing to listen to it."_

 _"Screw that! Why are you here in my dreams? Why am I here again? What do you want with me?" Chris spat out, his eyes blazing with anger and twitching, his fists clenched and ready to pummel someone to the ground with alchemy. Truth held up his hands in a defenseless manner, if this person here was anything_ but _defenseless, "I'm here in your subconscious, if that answers your questions, now pipe down, kid. I need to tell you something, so listen carefully."_

 _"That makes it even worse! Why in hell would I listen to you?" Chris retorted, squirming violently. No way was he going to see this bastard again, he was going to straddle his hands around the person's throat and squeeze-_

 _"You can't kill me," Truth spoke out, taking a seat beside Chris. "If that's what you're thinking."_

 _"Why?" He asked, with a dry sense of humor, "My hands could easily get around your throat right now. Or I could transmute a huge spike."_

 _"Because I am a being that is even more powerful than you can even imagine… at least, except for other worlds, that is."_

 _At that, Chris stopped squirming, tired and sweaty. He caved in, finally giving the chance for Truth to talk, "Alright. Tell me what you want to tell me. Make it quick." The being gave him an unsettling grimace, before bending forward and whispering into his ear, "Chris, your family is alright."_

 _He stayed silent for a moment, digesting this burst of information, before mumbling out, "Thank you, for that. I guess…"_

 _"You are welcome. Now, I have to inform you of the_ real _reason I sent you here, because apparently, that's important."_

 _"What reason is there? You put me here because I 'attempted Human Transmutation', am I right?" Chris said spitefully._

 _"Well… yes, and no. No, because I sent you for another reason, one I hadn't realized until it dawned on me, and yes, because it was fair."_

 _"What's the reason then?" Chris asked, his curiosity peaking._

 _Truth took in a long puff of air, offloading the words he had already prepared in his head, "Do you know anything about alternate dimensions, Chris?"_

 _Chris shook his head, both lost and confused at Truth's words. The smallish being mulled over this for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, before trying again, "Imagine a world where Amestris does not exist, where Aerugo, and where Xerxes does not exist. That is where you are in right, an alternate dimension. An alternate take of the world."_

 _"Wh-what do you mean?"_

 _"For example, the Ishvalan Civil War could never have taken place, or the Philosopher of the East could not have bestowed alchemy upon you, humans. Worlds are created, based on people's choices." Truth rattled on, not eager to lose his train of thought, "It's the Butterfly Effect, and you're in one of its creations, Chris."_

 _"You mean to say, that this world could have alchemy? But something happened that led to… all of what I saw?" Chris murmured, finally understanding, "You mean to say, that Amestris, Aerugo, Xing, all our countries… could have been just like this?"_

 _"I know this is a lot to comprehend, but-."_

 _Chris held up a hand, feeling himself thaw out from Truth's induced freezing, "Why is this all important?"_

 _"Chris…"_

 _"I'm just saying! What does knowing that there exists alternate dimensions and realities have to do with anything! I mean, I'm grateful that you didn't take my body parts or anything as a sacrifice-."_

 _"You're welcome for that, by the way."_

 _"-but I don't see the_ why! _Where's the why? Why am I involved, why was the urn filled with ashes-?"_

 _"_ Chris… _"_

 _"-and if you're a being that can seemingly control worlds, why can't you do it?"_

 _"Chris!" Truth yelled out, silencing Chris in an instant. The immortal being rubbed his temples… if he ever had temples. Instead, he paced across the infinite whiteness, constructing a way to properly 'drop everything' on the kid, without per say, blowing up the kid's head – that tended to happen._

 _With a snap, he had it, and started to explain everything in one concise movement, "Between this world, and the world of Amestris, there exists a rift. Normally, that is_ not _supposed to happen, and I'm not certain how long it has existed. Though, it has been dormant all this time… until now, it seems," he begun, "Someone has been using the rift once more, and it is tearing apart the very fabric of this world and yours, Chris! Alchemists are getting pulled into the rift, and where they are specifically, I do not know. But I do know that they are somewhere in Vale, where you are right now. So listen to me, and listen to me good, kid," He stopped for a gulp of air, "What I want you to do, is to fix the rift, save the alchemists, and to put a stop to whoever's kidnapping the alchemists and abusing the rift itself."_

 _Chris blinked. Truth blinked. Chris blinked again, letting out a low, "Wha..?" before he continued, "I understood at least half of that. Amestrians getting pulled into a rift that is somehow linking this world – Remnant as you've said – and my Earth? A rift that's somehow existed for thousands of years?" He slumped backwards, falling on his back. "I don't understand any of it… but yet I do, at the same time?" He smacked a fist onto the ground, "It's frustrating!"_

 _Truth commented, "You humans are so fickle. If I asked anyone else, they'll probably accept it."_

 _"I highly doubt it, Truth!" Chris retorted, "How hasn't anyone in Amestris noticed the disappearances?"_

 _"Please, you Amestrians are always drop like flies at the slightest possible thing. The Ishvalan Civil War, the war with Aerugo, the war with… pretty much any country still out there. I hardly think anyone would have noticed."_

 _"Then why now? Why now, of all times?"_

 _"I needed to reach an alchemist before the one abusing the rift eventually took one away, and you were the first one I found. And I got a State Alchemist at that!"_

 _"…"_

 _"So, will you help me?"_

 _"I just… I don't know…"_

 _"What do you mean 'you don't know'? After I've been helping you out this entire time?"_

 _"Helping me out?" Then, certain things seemed to click. The voice in his head that ordered him to head to Beacon, the voice that came from his mouth when he ordered the guard to let him in that wasn't his._

 _"Y-you?" He shot up, pointing a finger to the midget._

 _"Yes. Me."_

 _"You controlled that man's body using my body as a conduit?"_

 _"It had to be done." Truth seemed adamant in that fact, crossing his arms together._

 _"What do you mean 'it had to be done'?" He protested._

 _Truth let out a hoarse sigh, shaking his head, "God, you're too fussy."_

 _"Fussy? I hardly call this being fussy!"_

 _"Shh…" Truth held up his hand, "…hold on… you're waking up. All right, all right listen. I'll be helping you along your way, but I won't be able to affect major things. I don't have much of a reach around there, unlike you mortals, who can jump through different realities, despite the consequences."_

 _Chris slowly felt his state of sleep start to subside, and a bright light seemed to be casting down on the both of them. He looked up, darting his head back down._

 ** _Damn, that's one bright light!_**

 _"And one more thing!" Truth yelled, the bright light getting brighter and brighter, emanating a constant buzzing sound as it did. "For entering the Gate of Truth, you entered God's domain, where no human is not supposed to trespass! You gained information, and now have the ability to use alchemy with-!" He scrambled to get his words out as the light nearly swallowed them both, "Remember, your locker number is 406! Remember that-!" Truth was already too late, as the bright light swallowed Chris up whole. It blinded him and he closed his eyes once more…_

…before he was awoken by a slight nudging to his back. He could feel someone rubbing his back, murmuring out, "Yeah, baby. Rub that back hard… rub it hard." He jumped up, straying as far from the sexually craved man as possible. Okay, time to plop that out of his memory and lock it up in some forgotten place of his.

He pulled the blanket off of him, before putting on his shirt and heading to the showers. He had a big day ahead of him, of course. Doing initiations and going off to save a couple of missing alchemists…

"Ugh…" Chris mumbled to himself, the first time he'd done it since coming to Remnant, "I feel sick…" And not from that… incident just moments before. But from everything. His body was getting acclimatized to whatever air pressure Remnant had – strange, how it had not done that before.

A bit of bumbling about and entering random people's rooms, he finally reached the locker room… before groaning at himself for not noticing the amount of signs that led right to the locker _room._ God, it was as if he was walking around, cross-eyed all of a sudden. With a sour expression, he shoved his way through the door, going through the lockers to find his.

"406…" Chris murmured under his breath, running through the locker numbers. "406…"

 _Wonder why he said that locker number? Probably something destructive, devastatingly powerful…_

 _If he can alter this world, then why doesn't he plug up the rift by himself?_ Chris wondered, murmuring out the locker numbers as he did, "403… 404… 405… 406…" …to find a piece of chalk on the floor of the locker. He picked it up, inspecting it for a bit, and gleefully kept it in the pocket of his jeans. He kept his overcoat in the locker, slamming it shut, and started playing around with the chalk. He 'chalked' it up to Truth possibly altering the world a tiny bit…

He noticed a girl with the reddest hair he'd ever seen pull out a sword and shield from within her locker, and she was outfitted with battle armor. Chris spared a glance at his own attire, and felt self-conscious immediately. A singed T-shirt and batty, old jeans, out in whatever 'initiation' that Professor Ozpin and the automaton Glynda Goodwitch had cooked up.

He was already saying a prayer to his pants by the time a voice crackled across a speaker system, " _Would all first-year students please report to Beacon Cliff for initiation? Again, all first-year students report to Beacon Cliff immediately."_

"I'm dead already." He grumbled, speaking indirectly to the woman, "Thanks a lot, Glynda."

* * *

He felt lost, utterly lost in the machinations of this world. Truth had given him a purpose for being here – and a reward to boot – which he was equally grateful, but he did not say _how_ he had to accomplish his goal, which way should he use to attain it. It was like giving someone 250 cenz, and asking them to fix a dented piece of automail. However, it could go both ways – you could either pay to fix the automail, or you could get a new one. Or if you were an alchemist, then you could bypass all that.

The order was vague at best. Open-ended, allowing him to tread through multiple possibilities of what would occur. That being said, he did not expect a whole row of students lined up at the edge of a cliff face, standing on what seemed to be launch pads, and Ozpin waving a coffee cup around like it was a magic pistol while he was in the middle of a speech, with Glynda standing beside him like a hawk - a really, really observant hawk. She held some sort of datapad-like object which Chris was fascinated by, before Ozpin began to speak,

"For years, you have trained to become warriors." He said, panning his gaze across all of them, "And today, your abilities will be evaluated in the Emerald Forest."

"Now, I'm sure many of you have heard the rumors about the assignment of teams," Glynda put in her thoughts into the barrel, "Well, allow us to put an end to your confusion. You would be assigned to your teams… _today_." Down the line, he could hear a whimper.

"These teammates will be with you for the rest of your time here at Beacon. So it is in your best interest to be paired with someone with whom you can work well." A groan, from the same person. He resisted the urge to look down the line and check. "That being said, the first person you make eye contact with after landing will be your partner for the next four years." He could hear the distant 'crack!' of a mirror breaking, darting his head to find the source of the noise. "After you've partnered up, make your way to the northern end of the forest. You will meet opposition along the way. Do not hesitate to destroy everything in your path... or you will die."

 _Then, that's a chance I'm willing to take. Joining this school is a much better alternative than out in… 'Vale', it seems._

The white-blondie that puked on the ship laughed to himself nervously, added by his loud gulping.

"You will be monitored and graded through the duration of your initiation, but our instructors will not intervene. You will find an abandoned temple at the end of the path containing several relics. Each pair must choose one and return to the top of the cliff. You will guard that item, as well as your standing, and grade you appropriately. Are there any questions?"

"Yeah… um, sir?"

" _Good!_ " Ozpin sounded pleased with himself, conveniently brushing aside the blondie's question, "Now take your positions."

"Um, sir. I have a question." Chris called out to the old crone, squatting down on the ground a few inches from the launching pad. "What if I decide that I do not want to be on a team with anyone?"

"Why ever would you want that?" Ozpin replied innocently with a wave of his coffee mug.

 _So, I can be alone, you old crone._

"I was just wondering." His hands were moving off their own accord, tracing a curved line on the hard-packed dirt of the cliff face. "But what if?"

Other students were already being launched into the air, making it extremely obvious, and he had to work fast.

"What's your name?" Ozpin asked him, eyeing the young man drawing a symbol on the ground. Was it a good luck charm, or some other tradition long forgotten to the people of Remnant, but remembered in the eyes of this young man's people? He seemed to be tracing lines in the inner part of the circle he had created, drawing geometric patterns that meant nothing to him, but most probably something to the boy.

It took for the man to respond, and even then, it was a murmur. "Chris Hale." He said. Ozpin nodded to Glynda, who immediately checked the boy in the database.

There seemed to be a flicker on the screen before his name popped up, followed by a list of transcripts. She mouthed them out, "Transcripts seem to be okay, if not average. An entrée from Signal," She looked up to the boy, who was arranging himself comfortably over the completed circle which resembled something from a ritual, "He seems to be fine, Ozpin."

Ozpin nodded to her, almost the exact same time that Chris clapped his hands together, hailing electric sparks that crackled across his very fingertips. The others down the line who had not been launched sneaked a peek at him, widening their eyes at the spectacle, though, Ozpin and Glynda looked at him with moderate satisfaction. This was barely anything new to them, crackling sparks and electricity bursting everywhere.

It was what happened next that surprised them. The boy slammed his clapped hands on the circle, and out from the ground and in his very hands, he extracted a sword from the ground. No… he _made_ the sword. It was slowly rising in his arms, and the ground below the sword was dipping into a little hole in the ground. It was as if the earth were merging to form this one blade, under the touch of this one boy.

Chris stood, grasping his newly-made sword, in his hands. He tested the sword's weight, just as the person beside the blondie was sent flying.

Ozpin nodded satisfactorily, uttering out, "You know, I think there is a way. I look forward to talking to you again, Chris." Blondie was sent flying, screaming. "If you _survive_ long enough, that is." Chris nodded, saying a silent prayer before being launched into the air, and feeling the wind tear at his face.

He felt instantly weightless, floating through the air as he did. He noticed that the others were already landing, some using their weapons to chuck them into the trees, some using their momentum and their weapons, and only one using her weapons to catapult herself further into the forest.

 _This is amazing! I feel like Icarus right now!_

 _All I have to do, is not reach for the sun. Head low._

For a moment, he saw the vast greenness that stretched for as far as the naked eye could see. His sight was the only limit. Gravity conspired against him as he felt himself reaching lower… and lower…

 _Alright… Chris, focus._ He trained his eyes on a single tree, _Use your sword to run a line through the trunk of the tree…_

 _…and…_

He heard a hard 'thunk!' as his sword lodged itself into the tree, before he circled his sword around the tree, grazing his hand against the tree bark as well.

 _Circle, circle, circle, jump!_

"Hah… hah… hah." He stumbled forward, laying his hand on a trunk. "That… was… stupid… albeit a little amazing…" He panted in short breaths, and shook himself to gather his bearings. Tree branches fell from the tree in piles, and he felt slightly guilty at being the one to tear them down. Before he remembered Ozpin's warning, and realized that he too would be torn apart like this tree if he wasn't wary enough.

Chris panned his gaze across the numerous pathways he could take, hazarding a guess with each one.

 _Ozpin said to go to the northern part of the forest… which way is north?_

He took it that 'north' was somewhere in front of him, where he would blindly bump into someone, and become their teammate for the rest of his eternal life.

That was something he was not ready to go through.

"Right." Chris murmured to himself, pepping his confidence up, "I know things might look scary, but this is only step one to going back home! You're going to find the alchemists, you're going to fix the rift, you're going to see your family again, whom you would gladly die for."

He glared into the forest, readying his blade. His legs had moved before he could feel them, as he blindly charged onward. He welcomed doom, and heartache with open arms.

 _Come on world! What have you got?_

* * *

"Did something seem… off, about Chris, too you?" Glynda questioned Ozpin, who was occupied watching the test unravel on his own datapad. In his own mysterious way, Ozpin resembled a sage to her… if she was looking at him for the first time.

"Hmm?" He mumbled, barely paying any attention, "Well, everyone seems a little off here when they get here for the first time. Remember Qrow?"

"Qrow was… _is_ … different. Chris was… he created a blade from the earth, Ozpin!" Ozpin sipped a cup of coffee before answering, "It can be easily explained away as a distant power that no one has known about for years, or a Semblance."

"It didn't feel like a Semblance, Ozpin." She defended herself, "It felt like something more… ancient. Powerful."

"We'll have to wait and see then. Not everything will reveal itself, Glynda. Everything has to unveil itself naturally. Give it time." Ozpin answered in her brief sentences, keeping his gaze focused on the datapad in front of him. Glynda thanked him, sneaking a peek at Ozpin's own datapad, and raising a brow at the person he had chosen to view.

 _Well, whomever Chris may be, I hope he is someone good._

Though… Ozpin had planted a seed of suspicion in her mind. If Chris was so good, then why was Ozpin viewing the boy, and not any of the other students?

 _I may never know. Or I might. This world does work in strange ways, after all._


	3. Chapter 3 - Get the 'Drop' on Him

**Welp... this is unfortunate. I'm sorry for the month long delay, and I know 5000 words does not atone for that. I won't make any promises, mostly because I can't keep them, and half of it because I know most people don't care. Anyway, I'll see you next chapter - hopefully - and hope that you enjoy this one!**

* * *

Chapter 3

In the skies above, only four people remained. One had expertly maneuvered themselves onto a tree branch, another was flailing in the air before he was speared by the top of his hoodie onto a tree trunk, and the third person was propelling herself forward through the sheer explosive power of her punches. But the last person was taking her time, using her Semblance to slow down her descent, making her body light.

She had done this numerous times before, studying her own landing strategy, so it was a piece of cake.

 _So why do I feel like I want to hurl?_

Maybe it was because she was high up in the air, with nowhere to land except green everywhere?

 _Alright… breathe…_

The flak vest she wore made it hard to, but it helped with the intense pressure. Her ashen brown hair rippled lightly in the wind, stroking against the back of her neck and did not hide her nervous smile.

 _Right, remember. Head forward, knees bent_ … She bent her knees, staring forward into the thicket of green ahead.

 _Don't think about anything else... don't think about anything else..._

She held out her weapon – a bright red staff – and squinted her eyes against the onrush of wind. It blasted her face, and with being so high in the clouds, moisture formed in front of her, wetting her face; giving it a nice sheen. Tears formed at the edges of her eyes, running down the side of her face in tiny droplets. The wind was strong now, but not strong enough. If the wind veered off into another direction, she would as well.

She had to time this just right. If she missed... well, she could already imagine going splat. What could be worse than going splat?

The others had already landed just a few moments ago, leaving only her in the skies. She panned across the forest for a suitable landing spot, and grinned with a maniac joy when she found one.

 _And..._ She stopped her Semblance, letting gravity take its natural course. Meaning, she shot forward like a man hyped up on coffee and several dozen gallons of the nearest barrels of cider, _Go!_

* * *

An eerie silence had fell over the forest as he trudged, a cacophony of crickets in the distance keeping Chris sane. He had never been in the woods on his own before. Most of the time it was with his sister, or - reluctantly - his father for sparring.

He could stand it with someone beside him, but alone... he was two inches away from a nervous breakdown, and later, insanity.

He noticed no changes in the scenery, just trees and trees for miles and miles. Sure, the verdant green forest was beautiful, but what the headmaster Ozpin said earlier frightened him. Chilled him to the very bone.

The creatures of Grimm are in these woods, Ozpin had said. He did not know what these 'creatures of Grimm' were, but he imagined that they weren't the friendly kind of creatures. Just thinking about the name 'Grimm' gave off a certain menace to it, like a creature powerful to rip apart stone and granite.

 _How long have I been walking for?_ He thought for the second time, looking up at the sky. It was only mere moments ago that he had spotted a yellow blur zoom over him, but now it felt like years.

The sun was still at its zenith, but his instincts told him it had been hours since he was 'launched'.

"How long have I been walking?" He uttered out, clenching his fists, "How long have I been walking!" He yelled out raucously, swinging his sword into the trunk of a tree.

He pulled out the sword, before jamming it into the trunk again. And again. And again, and again he stabbed the tree, relentlessly with as much force as he could muster.

The barky oakwood brown was now crisscrossed with deeply etched lines, scarring the poor victimized tree.

Was this initiation really necessary at all? Couldn't Truth had just bent the rules a bit? He sure as hell hadn't remembered going to this 'Signal Academy' and whatever his transcripts had said, must've been a farce. His burst of confidence earlier seemed silly, he hadn't evaluated his situation thoroughly at all then. He'd just went with the flow and with whatever happened then.

The façade from years of bloody fighting, even bloodier wars, and social unrest was cracking.

"I'm going to die in this forest." He moaned, his pessimistic side threatening to leak out. He flashed himself a wry smile at how quick his anxiety had caught up to him... in the form of a nervous breakdown.

His yelling might've attracted Grimm, but who gave a damn?

"Beacon might be the only place for me... I don't know anywhere else here." He murmured, idly kicking a stone. And then he heard it, a rustle in the bushes. Slightly inaudible, but he managed with his keen sense of hearing. His smile faded instantly, whitewashed with look of determination, laced with apprehension.

He didn't greet, but held his sword up. Could be a... Huntsman or Huntress that'd pop right out of those bushes, or a creature of Grimm, if he knew what they looked like.

But he felt that he could hazard a guess at what they looked like just by their moniker.

* * *

First, she felt pain, pain throbbing in her head, and throughout her entire body. Then the feeling of her aura fizzling about her entire whole, a faint purple flitting about her eyes. She cracked an eye open, getting herself up. She was in a forest – that much she knew – that was populated with swarms of Grimm.

Her aura had activated, which meant her Semblance had as well. That might explain why she wasn't being ravaged by a pack of Beowulf, or torn to pieces by Ursai.

 _Where's… where's Aoi?_

The potter was nowhere to be seen, her thick-headed idiot of a cousin. She swore, if she found him… Her eye twitched, bringing with it an onslaught of pain. She probably had bruises decorating her skin, despite the armor she wore under her silken waistcoat.

 _Leave the threats when I find him. It's not worth it anyway. God I'm getting headaches just thinking about him._

She stood up, balancing herself against a tree trunk. What had happened to the landing strategy, how had she ended up lying face down on the ground? She vaguely remembered stabbing her katana into a tree bark, before losing her grip and falling down here… Craning her head up, she noticed a large tree, slightly taller than the trees surrounding her. Branches jutted out of the tree at periodic intervals, almost rhythmically, and this would've fine – if she hadn't noticed a branch that broke the rhythm of the other branches.

The branches circling the base of the tree looked sturdy enough, and her staff wasn't fixed that high onto the tree. She tested out a branch, bending it to a nearly U-ish shape, but it did not break. Feeling satisfied, she put her foot on the branch, grabbing the other one that was above her.

 _And one… two… three…_ She counted in her head, an unconscious grin gracing her pale as porcelain pale face. She was grateful that she had something to do right now, instead of sitting about; strategizing every step she would take. It was frustrating to say the least. "Oof… oof…" She grunted with each branch she grasped, the katana steadily approaching her field of vision.

"And… gotcha!" She silently exclaimed, curling her fingers around the staff without any hesitation. She tugged on the staff, expecting it to slide right out, but it remained stuck. She curled her lip into a frown, tugging on the katana again.

 _Why is the damn thing stuck?_ She halfheartedly praised the blacksmith who had made the katana durable, but did he have to make it so durable? She tugged again and again, struggling to pull it out. And her hand was already beginning to let loose of the branch, fingers snapping up and loosening with each tug towards the sword. Again and again she pulled, gritting her teeth hard. She had let go of the branch, focusing her own two hands on the sword, and she dug her feet into the wood of the trunk.

 _I can feel it loosening… yes, it's-!_

The sword plopped right out, and she felt a moment of joy. At that moment, the sun could've blinded her eyes, and she wouldn't have cared!

But remembering the fact that none of her hands were holding any sort of leverage, she shared a moment of realization with God before falling. She landed with a _"thunk!"_ , her aura kicking in before she fell. A leaf rustled towards her, floating gently onto her nose. She could stay like this, sleep in this forest forever.

A figure stepped into her vision, a figure she recognized immediately, grinning coyly above her. His dark blue eyes stared down at her, before he reached out a hand. "Need help?" He asked, bending down as he did, "Saki?"

She let out a breath, as she grasped his hand, "Aoi?" Her mouth curved up then, as she said, "You idiot of a cousin." She was met with a flash of white before she was pulled up, meeting the gaze of her blue-eyed relative, a potter back in Mistral but not as renowned. "Took you long enough."

"I'm sorry that navigating this forest is _hard_ ," He sarcastically retorted, without the slightest hint of snide remark, "and that you were _so_ lonely without me, Saki." She shook her head, frowning at his given nickname for her. Despite his carefree attitude, her cousin was intimidating when he wanted to be, and even now, he was exuding a sense of importance, despite his appearance. A jade-colored jacket draped over his shirt, his whitish-blue hair in tight ponytail, and a potter's bag buckled on his belt.

His signature weapon, a large internal calipers - roughly the size of a rock - hung docile on his belt, not threatening in the least; well, to anyone who didn't know Aoi at least.

"That's enough, Aoi. I should be smacking your head right now. You told me to use to your exact landing strategy, and I did." She said, sounding tense at that last bit.

"You were the one who agreed." He held up his hands in defense, "I just 'made you think' of using _my_ landing strategy. You chose to do it!" He pointed out, causing her to dart her head somewhere else. She did agree to it, but to her defense, she was occupied with breakfast. And to be honest, Beacon's food was miles ahead of what Haven had to offer.

Aoi made a batting motion with his hands, "Whatever happened then, doesn't matter! Because we're partners now! And we need to head to the relic site as quick as possible if we want to beat the others!" He looked at his surroundings, expecting the menacing glare of a pair of red eyes, or the threatening growl that followed, but nothing except the rustle of leaves and the occasional chirping of birds above. "I gather your Semblance is keeping away the Grimm for now?"

She nodded, "I think it's activated," Her eyes flitted to a tree, sheepishly adding, "For the time being."

"Well, I ask that as a precautionary measure," Aoi smiled at her, a queer little smile, but one that spoke volumes of himself, and patted his potter's bag, "I've got a lot of new toys here. And I can't wait to show them to the _Grimm_." He spat out the last word distastefully.

Saki had the nerve to ask, "What's in the bag?" Instead of an answer, he shook his head cryptically.

"So, let's get going then!" He exclaimed, dragging her along by the collar. "I wonder what types of Grimm we're going to fight and encounter along the way! And-!" His voice trailed off as they entered the forest.

* * *

"The last pair has been formed, sir." Glynda informed Professor Ozpin, squinting her eyes at the datapad, "Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren."

"Hmm…" Ozpin replied curtly, focused towards his own datapad. And towards two particular pairs, one with a childish girl in a red hood, and an apparently – but not so – bossy type in white. The both of them were doing quite well he surmised, despite the few skirmishes along the way. But for the other boy and the one he had paired with… they were close, that was true, but it seemed to him that that boy had no experience in combat whatsoever.

Or if he did, he wasn't showing it. Glynda was rattling off her own thoughts towards another pairing, "Still, he's better off than Ms. Nikos. I don't care what his transcripts say. That Jaune fellow is not ready for this level of combat."

"Or so it seems, Glynda." Ozpin murmured to the concerned woman, tearing his gaze from the datapad for a moment, "They will find their way. In the meantime, enjoy the view." He gestured to the sprawling landscape before them, and the sheer drop that was only a few paces away from them. Teetering at the edge of death and life… how profound.

"Hmph," Glynda grunted, looking back to the datapad, "Anyway… at the pace they're going, they should reach the temple in under a few minutes from now."

A question invaded her mind then, perturbed, and she voiced out her concerns, "Speaking of which, what did you use as relics this year?" She raised a brow as she asked, to further accent her suspicions. The relics were Ozpin's job to set up, not hers, and only he had the final say in whatever it was. Sometimes it would be a toy replica of a Grimm. Other times it would be elemental Dust. And, what she called 'unfortunate times', it would be on the back of a Grimm, mostly a Nevermore or in some cases a Death Stalker.

"Professor Ozpin?" She asked once more as silence fell, the seemingly aged man looking at his datapad once more. He was focused on two specific cameras, switching between them often.

"Hmm…" Ozpin murmured, looking at the boy facing a Beowulf. The boy stood stock still, unsure of what to do. Ozpin's lip quirked up in contemplation at this – was this the boy's first time at fighting a creature of Grimm? Yes, that might've been a stupid, if not idiotic, question, but his expression looked as if this was his first time even seeing a Beowulf!

In another screen, he saw a girl dashing to the ground at a breakneck speed, and the space was almost similar to where Chris was standing.

He smirked at the screen, confusing Glynda.

 _Fate has a laughable way of setting events in motion._

That, he was sure of.

* * *

"Hello?" He called out, raising his sword high. He could try to lure out or distract with a simple alchemy trick that wouldn't even require him to lift a finger. But it might take time drawing the transmutation circle, and honestly, his mind was too frazzled and jumpy to think of anything. Something that he inherited from his… father.

He saw movement, and the bush become still. A healthy pause had replaced the rustling and crunching sound from the bushes, filling the air itself. Then a low growl broke that silence, and as suddenly as it began, it grew before a wolf-like creature stalked out of the bushes, on its haunches, and sniffed the air around Chris for a moment. His legs were tense, his calf and upper muscles flexing in fear at the sight of this creature. It reminded eerily of a chimera, if he had ever seen one. The wolf-thing's coal black skin fazed him a bit, but the red streaks crisscrossing its body intimidated him. It looked mangled, corrupted, as if it was supposed to be a wolf – as if it _wanted_ to be a wolf – but was changed into this.

The creature looked up, noticing that Chris was there, and then, his mouth curved into an expression of grim determination, furling his brows. Those red eyes reminded him of flames. He gritted his teeth.

He knew a lot about flames.

He brought his hand down in a thrusting motion, uncaring that this was a creature that had stumbled right to him. ' _Sucks to be it then'_ was his response. The blade was stuck in the ground, the Beowulf leaping back and baring its fangs. The thing had really… really big claws.

 _I take it back! This is nothing like a chimera!_

The Beowulf raked its claws at him, impacting his chest and sending him back several metres. The clearing they were in was small, with several more bushes surrounding the edges. They cushioned him as he fell, and he felt sticks and leaves cracking under his weight. The Beowulf panted, letting out a shrill howl, before bounding after him, teeth glaringly white under the shade of the trees. He held his sword up as the creature raised its claws –

-and raked them against rough, coarse stone. Chris bit his lip in frustration, letting out spittle. The impact sent him reeling, but he bit it back down… hard. He kicked the creature aside, and got back up quickly. The creature stared back at him, glaring even. Its eyes glowed like embers, and inside, he felt as if they were filled with nothing but mindless hatred, death, chaos…

It didn't want to die, he could feel that like an aura radiating off of it. A particularly smelly one too.

But he didn't want to die, as well. He couldn't die. Not after bumbling around like an idiot earlier, not after he had gained the trust of one person in this world, who he didn't really get to know all that well, and certainly not in this world. He wanted to die on a battlefield, stripped down to his underwear with fireworks strapped to his back…

 _Why am I fighting again? What kind of idiot would let me into a battlefield and expect results?_

The answer slapped him right in the face, and he made a face when it did.

Ozpin.

… _I'm screwed._

The Beowulf stalked him, carving long lines of marks on the trees with its claws. Its small, gem-like eyes, squinted; within it, untold amounts of fury surged and boiled, emanating waves of terror. And if it could do that just by squinting, then he didn't want to stick around when it roared.

"Do you want to die today, you freak of nature!" He yelled out, thrusting his sword forward. Nothing could stop him from killing this thing, absolutely nothing. He didn't imagine he would look stupid at all to the Beowulf's standards. It had felled much more worthy Huntsman than this pint of shrimp. The creature bared its fangs threateningly, vibrating a low growl with his throat that would've made any unseasoned soldier quake in his feet. He nearly did, almost did. Without thinking, and without even contemplating another possible route which wouldn't result in him dying, Chris charged, letting out a battle cry as he did, the Beowulf let out a deep, haunting howl.

Before he could even stab the thing in the throat and let out a 'heroic' battle cry, something slammed into him with the force of tens of thousands rhinos! It must've been something, a stray bird that fell out of the sky, or a… rock…

Either way, it impacted him, and sent him flying back. His head hit a tree, the pain nearly cracking his head, like someone was smacking a baseball bat at him, from inside his head. It didn't make any sense, but considering his horrid luck, it might've happened.

 _Shit!_ He yelled out, biting down his tongue hard, till he tasted a metallic tang. A low howl rang across the entire clearing, before he heard something between a wet squelch, and something whimpering. He let out a moan, his head lolling to the side, the lids of his eyes barely trying to stay pinned up. He must've suffered a concussion, because he felt something leaking from his head, and trickling down his face fast. Now he understood what a leaking water tap must've felt like in that instant. The last thing he saw, before his eyelids fluttered and his mind went unconscious, before the trickle of blood at the back of his head worsened…

…was bright-red rowan berries.

* * *

"Say, what do you think the relic site will look like?" Aoi asked, slapping aside a stray branch, his feet snapping leaves and sticks into halves of themselves. They were walking for what seemed to be a couple of minutes now, and they were clearly not getting any closer to where they needed to be. Saki stayed behind, acting as a sort of repellant to any stray Grimm, but how long would her Semblance last? Already, the fear was creeping up on her, something she had staved off before at Haven.

Those glistening teeth that could tear through bone… those menacing red eyes…

 _Focus on what's important!_ She yelled internally, shaking her head, _You can worry about being killed later!_

But still, there was something idyllic about this forest, if she pushed aside the thought of Grimm tearing apart her flesh.

"Saki." Aoi stopped abruptly, and she managed to catch herself as he did. He turned towards her, his eyes straight and grave, "We're lost." She nodded slowly, digesting this information with the utmost patience. Curiously, her expression wasn't that of a crestfallen teenager, but rather of wry humor.

"We're lost." She repeated to herself, letting out breaths one by one. "I expected this. Walking blindly in a forest never helped anyone." She held her head up, gazing further north. They had been walking north from where she had landed, and so far, had seen nothing but trees, leaves and the occasional beetle stuck high in a branch. They were lost, that much was true.

"Try using your Semblance." Saki said, her head darting about. Being nervous was a common thing right? She could be nervous, couldn't she?

This felt nothing like the burst of confidence she had when she stepped off that airship, and onto the courtyard of Beacon Academy. Heck, Aoi was much more occupied with a boy getting escorted by two ship guards than anything else.

"Hold on." He said, holding up a hand. She instantly stilled, knowing well that when Aoi adopted those piercing eyes and let out an order, it was best to listen. "I feel something..." God damn it, why was this guy always so vague! "Something…" He closed his eyes, focusing his Semblance. Right now, it was sensing something, something further ahead. They weren't exactly giving off the same vibe that Grimm usually gave off - which was nothing to begin with since they had no Aura - but it was still good to be cautious all the same. Who knew, they could be White Fang?

And considering his rocky history with them, he would be right to be cautious.

"Saki, I feel two signatures a few paces ahead of me. The signatures seem to be conversing… and beyond them, is a large clearing." He creased his forehead, concentrating his Semblance to spread out wider. His Semblance tapped into the earth – a potter's basic ingredient – and stone that littered Remnant and connected Remnant; bound it to a network of shining links. He could sense it but only a set area, which was a complete bummer. He often tried tweaking his Semblance using Dust, but it was to no avail.

"I also feel stone." He tried envisioning it, picturing a bunch of stonework buildings in the middle of a large clearing. Clearly, this place was unpopulated, except for Grimm, so the stonework would have to be crumbling. Drawing upon his vast imagination, he now inserted hanging pieces of lichen and moss onto the crumbling structure, and within a complete of seconds; he had attained a rough sketching of the relic site.

And the two signatures seemed to be heading toward it.

"Saki, the relic site is up ahead. The two signatures seem to be heading towards it." He asserted his statement, opening his eyes once more as his Aura snapped back into his body.

"R-right." She managed to say, but she was speaking to silence. Aoi had already gone on ahead, walking in a cartoonish fashion. Like when the character is angry, and stomps off. Only this time, it was determination. She let out a sigh, following him, all while Aoi had one thought going through his mind.

 _I thought I felt another presence a few ways behind the both of us. It felt like it was headed for this exact spot,_ He put a hand on his potter's calipers, nearly unhooking it from his belt. Only the sound of silence greeted him, interspersed with the occasional bird chirps – if the birds could survive long enough in a forest full of Grimm. Nothing, as of yet. He retreated his hand, shaking his head and shelving his earlier worries to some distant part of his mind, ending it with, _Meh, might be something insignificant._

* * *

"That Beowulf wasn't so tough!" The broadsword-wielding teenager chimed, relinquishing her weapon from the now-dead beast. No blood trickled out of the wound, but it glowed a menacing blood red, as did the rest of the Grimm's body. It wasn't long before it burned, crisped into a pile of ashes, and she relished in the thought that one less Grimm lived in the world.

 _One down, probably millions left to go. Yay me…_

She panned her gaze across the forest floor, grinning at the sight of all that green. The sky was nice and pretty, sure, but solid ground was something she could get by. Still, if the people at Atlas could get right on building a rocket ship into the cosmos, then damn, she would be the first one in line.

She craned her head, watching all that blue from a safe distance. Well, as safe as one can be in a forest full of Grimm.

 _There could be more of them though._ She surmised, noting how many times that the Beowulf had howled. It could've been part of pack, and strayed from it. But no… there were some Beowulves that were solitary.

She stopped thinking to herself when she heard a moan coming beside her. Her ears perked up, the moan a few ways from where she was it seemed. She turned around, expecting to see the last breaths of a dying Huntsman with her – what? It could happen! – or quite possibly a dying otter – that one was personal. She stopped once she found the body, and the blood that trickled down his head. His chest seemed to be moving up and down steadily, so he wasn't dead. He seemed to be unconscious, or quite possibly had a snooze attack in the middle of a deadly forest.

Stepping cautiously towards it, she ran a hand through his scraggly black hair, recoiling after a shock, her hands red, glistening, sticky, and dripping down her fingers. She found it surprising, that a boy that she had found in an unconscious state, whilst in the middle of the Emerald Forest, could shock her so much.

She didn't feel any Aura around him, not even a trace, so nothing was staving off the loss of blood. At that rate, only his body's natural healing could save him. She could tie a bandage around his head to keep the blood from flowing out, by cutting apart a portion of her pant leg… but then what next? She couldn't leave him here, and even if she could carry him, the metal plating she wore certainly couldn't hold under the extra weight.

Letting out a hoarse, and tired sigh – sleep wasn't giving her good dreams lately – she held up her broadsword, and started slicing about a quarter of her pant leg into a medium-long scarlet red strip. The boy shook his head to the side, as if he were having a nightmare instead of being unconscious.

She whistled a tune, her hands occupied with tying a strong knot on the boy's head – not loose, but not too tight either. She thought of other things, mostly about the cosmos above him, or the odds that she would find a partner the first thing she landed… albeit, crashing into someone didn't count as partnering up with them, and hopefully it didn't count as assault.

 _Wow! Who knew my aunt was right?_

She tried to think about the boy, how he seemed kind of interesting. Most of Vale's residents had colorfully bright hair, ranging from innumerable shades of red, to a single shade of yellow. Meeting someone with a shade of black was… disheartening, but not so to stop her. Also, what was he wearing? A stark white T-shirt, streaked with ash as if he had been running through the remains of an incinerator. Her other hand strayed from looping the fabric around the bloodied concussion, going down to his pockets. She felt something there, and pulling it out revealed a piece of chalk.

 _Is this guy an idiot, or just really lucky? If the creatures of Grimm could be defeated using chalk, humans would've won the war years ago!_

After using the underside of her flak vest to wipe off the blood matting his hair, she stood up and wiped her hands against a tree trunk.

"Done." She said, for her own pleasure instead of stating a fact. The knot was shabbily done, but enough to hold off the blood. She would have to bring him back to Beacon sometime later, let the experts handle him. The only thing she knew what to do, was to tie a knot around someone's wound. She didn't know anything medical-related, ironic despite the fact that her parents were doctors. Not doctors of the medical expertise, mind you, but doctors of science. The weapons kind.

"Rowena Claramond, you did your best." She chastised herself, strapping her broadsword to her clip on her shoulder. She tried to find purchase on the boy's body, finally looping her arms under his armpits, and heaved him up onto her shoulder. Surprisingly, he didn't seem to be that heavy, despite his size. Must be his eating habits.

 _This boy might be slowing me down…_ She worried in her head, realizing what she had thought, and started shaking her head, as if she could banish those harrying things from her mind. Fear, doubt, all negative emotions, they all brought Grimm.

And she didn't want that. Plus, she was running out of time.

She had taken a huge risk using her Semblance, she could only hope that she could stave it off for long.

The boy beside her murmured something unintelligible for a brief moment, and it was so soft it was barely inaudible. Whatever he had said, it distressed him, as the line over his brows crinkled downwards. All that Rowena could make out was, "Amestris... family... not there..." She didn't let it bother her, focused was she on her goal, but shelved the question in some measly portion of her head. What was Amestris? Was it a country on the far side of the continent of Sanus? And why would his family not be there?

"Don't worry, keep hurrying," She murmured a chant, something her mother would whisper into her ear. It wasn't anything like a good luck charm, but she loved how comforting it sounded, "The Grimm can't find you."

 _Especially a Nevermore._ The warmth of the boy over her shoulder did not stop the chill that accompanied the mere thought of that particular offshoot of Grimm. She would never want to see one, even in the battle field, even if it was above her, staring down at her with nothing but red, blood red, eyes. Not after what _it_ did, not to her, but to a person she cared about. She did not grit her teeth, as one would expect, but frown.

She could - would - never forget that.


End file.
